


Life of The Party

by My_Black_Crimson_Rose6



Series: Life's a Party, and You're Invited [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alcohol, Begging, Dirty Talk, Fraternities & Sororities, Jealousy, M/M, Morning After, Morning Sex, One Night Stands that don't stay as "only one night", Parties, Possessive Behavior, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-24 21:49:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4936573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Black_Crimson_Rose6/pseuds/My_Black_Crimson_Rose6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every relationship starts somewhere... theirs started with a drunken one night stand. Obviously it didn't stay that way but it wasn't like they knew that at the time!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wake Up in the Morning...

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday to me [this may look to be posted on the 5th on this but just so we all know my birthday was the 4th]. Unfortunately I needed to finish this to help calm myself down after my dog had a seizure and had to be rushed to the animal hospital, I'm still waiting for the news now.

There was just something about that night that had Washington's mind swirling, and it was not from the alcohol. Maybe this _alcohol_ did have a bit of an effect as to influence Washington's so-called loyalty to his frat house (these things were very technical after all) but maybe it also had something to do with the whole waking up beside the Knight and staring at him until he woke.

He couldn't remember how he ended up in bed with a member of his house's rival. He couldn't even remember how the guy kissed, let alone how good the sex was.

Maybe _that_ would be the reason why he kept coming back, he'd muse. Maybe that hazy morning, fighting between that _just fucked_ feeling and the hangover, would grow on him and influence his behaviour for the next two weeks.

The black haired man's chocolate brown eyes fluttered open, squinting when the stray ray of light shone onto his face. "Fuck," he hissed as he rolled closer to Washington. Tucking his face into Washington's fluffy blond hair.

"You can say that again," Wash chuckled, the sound grating on his fried brain. Yup, he was hung-over.

The man stiffened, pulling away from his bed partner and finally taking in his appearance. Taking in the blond hair, the gray-blue eyes, the freckles and that familiar youthful face. He cursed, rolling onto his back and throwing an arm over his face with a sigh. “For fucks sake,” he cursed again before rolling even further away from Washington and out of the bed that belonged to neither Terrence nor Washington—Terrence was his name, right?

He was older than Wash so he couldn’t be too sure—didn’t have a class together, not a single shared friend. Their fraternities were rivals so it’s not like they were _supposed_ to get along.

Washington caught the man’s arm before he could roll out of the bed, tugging him back and wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “So, I don’t remember shit from last night and if our frats are going to flip out about this one-night fuck I would rather _remember_ it.” He seals their lips together, cupping the man’s face as he eased his tongue between his teeth.

Terrence pulled away, though reluctantly, to snarl out a “what are you doing?” Pushing the blond away from him when he went in for another press of lips, “stop that.” He pried the man’s hands away from his face, from his neck and shoulders, only for Washington to wrap his naked legs around the man’s equally naked waist. “They’ll talk,” he hissed, following the man down to the bed when their cocks brushed against each other.

“They’d talk either way. Let’s give _ourselves_ something to remember everything by,” he kept his hands up by his head as he batted those baby blues up at his bed partner. Licking his lips, dragging his tongue over his teeth when that brown eyes gaze followed after each movement. If the man wanted to be in charge and it meant that Wash was going to get laid again then _sure_ , sure he’d keep his hands where he could see them. “It’s not much fun if you can’t remember your one night stand.”

He had a point. He knew he had a point—he didn’t have this reputation of sleeping around with enough dicks _NOT_ to have gained a bit of traction in the ways of the job. Though that made it sound like he was being paid for his sex which unfortunately was not the case—though he should ask Felix if he was. Felix’s Reputation was capitalized; that boy had been around the block more than once, Wash could say that he knew even though he’s only tangoed with the man twice in his year at this _lovely_ University of his.

Terrence eased back onto his haunches, untangling the blond’s freckled legs from around his waist and flipping him over onto his hands and knees. “A couple of rules then blondie: 1. don’t fucking kiss me,” he slid in between his thighs, dipping a finger between his cheeks to feel just what kind of mess he had to work with. Most of the lube from last night had been absorbed and unless Terrence felt like tearing something he’d have to prep the blond open again.

The one thing that Terrence had discovered quickly after attending a few sorority mixers was that these bedrooms that they _allowed_ people to hook up in (because they wouldn’t let just anyone fuck in one of their bedrooms) was that they kept a readily supplied stash of condoms and lube for mass consumption—same could be said with frat houses though too, what with all the condoms Terrence found laying around his place. “Rule 2. No names,” he doesn’t care if this blond _knew_ him, he didn’t want to know him and he didn’t want to hear the guy moaning his name. Maybe last night, sure, but the sun was up and the morning brought didn’t rules into play.

He fumbled around for the condoms and lube that fell onto the floor—did it happen during round one or did it happen before that? Terrence gave no shit; no shits were given save that he eventually got to plow that perky freckled ass that tempted him so. He pushed himself back upright between the blond’s legs, uncapping the lube as he went about explaining the third rule. “3. No bullshit. No talking afterwards, no exchanging numbers. We fuck, we leave, we forget this ever happened.”

The blond snorted, clearly rolling his eyes into his folded arms as he bucked back against the lubricated finger slipping down his crack. “Rule number 4,” he pauses to slide a finger into the man. His eyes falling shut as the blond moans, that damn finger slipping in with far too much ease. He added a second—he was still stretched, still ready for him. _Fuck._ “Rule number 4. No marks.” He says this while staring at a huge _dark_ hickey on the man’s shoulder—he’s already broken this so-called rule of his, but it was starting _now_. Now and onwards was what mattered.

The blond moaned, rocking back against his two fingers working their way easily within him. He slipped in a third, “5. No cuddling.” Terrence didn’t like cuddling to begin with. He only really did that with his significant others—he ran a real hot internal body temperature and just having someone else snuggled up against him made it all the more unmanageable.

The man beneath him chuckles, spreading those thighs wider and bucking back when Terrence slipped a third digit within. “We’ll see Sharkface,” he tsked, cursing when the man removed his fingers from his puckered little asshole. At Terrence’s nickname a flair spikes in his gut, heat dispersing throughout his body as he tears at the corner of the condom with his teeth.

It could be how he says it; the taunt in his tone, the drawn out ‘ _r’_ and ‘ _ce’_ sounds. It could be how his own body reacts to how he says the man’s name; the brief flash of gray-blue eyes over his shoulder looking back at him, that shake of his ass as he perks it up just so. “Say that name again and I break your teeth,” his threat sounds hollow to his own ears as he busies himself with rolling the condom down his length.

“Mmmmm, Terrence—” now _that_ warranted the unforgiving smack to the man’s ass. Already the deep red hand print began to form on the milky white flesh freckled with a variety of browns. The man yelped, turning to glare at the man only to clench them shut when he pushed in. The blond moaned—pushing back almost instantaneously as Terrence rammed in balls deep.

Gripping the back of the blond man’s neck he pistoned his hips; skin slapping as he forced his sore, tired and hung-over body into brutally controlled movements. “Stop. Talking,” he punctuated each work with a thrust, with a groan as his eyes clenched shut and he pressed himself to the body beneath him.

The blond chuckled, reaching ‘round and clenching one of Terrence’s ass cheeks. “No marks,” Washington teased, already feeling the man’s teeth digging into his shoulder. Terrence was a walking talking contradiction—no marks this, yet here he goes biting into Washington’s shoulder as he rams his cock deep within his ass. Washington moans, “Ter _renc_ e you said—oh _fuck yes_ —you said no marks Terrence.”

Oh of course Washington knew the elder man’s name. It was hard to forget when the name was paired with a man looking as fine as… well, Terrence. All tattooed and muscled. All snarly too—fuck, Washington had a weakness for bad boys and this Trojan Knight was _bad_. So fucking deliciously devilish.

He got off at the growls that man would hiss out between those teeth as he bit and sucked marks up his neck and down his shoulder. Washington arched back against the man as his cock brushed against his prostate gland; “oooh fuck!” He was loud, it was something that came with Washington’s reputation. Washington was loud, he liked cock and he took it really fucking fantastic. That and he liked it hard and rough and _brutal_. “Oooh fuck! _Fuck!_ Terrence right there, right fucking there you shit!”

The man chuckled, licking behind the blond’s earlobe and sucking on the flesh. “Beg. You can’t seem to keep that mouth in check so do something _useful_ ,” the headboard slammed against the wall and Wash could almost swear that something _cracked_ , “with it.”

“You want to hear me beg? I’ll _beg_ ,” Wash broke out into a pornographic moan that could no doubt be heard by the house.

Terrence pulled out, tossing the blond haired man onto his back and drawing his legs up and over his shoulders. Slamming back into the man’s quivering asshole Terrence hissed, “Then beg, bitch.” Clenching his hand around the man’s prick, Terrence continued to assault his clenching whole. Groaning and finding his own pleasure when the man would clench down around him, milking his cock with his heat—his tightness.

Talking was easy, talking was what Washington _did_ —it was what he was known for. It was a gift to get him to _stop_ talking and normally that would be because there was a cock in his mouth; his Momma taught him to not speak with his mouth full. “Please baby—please Terrence I need it. I wanna cum, I wanna cum with you inside me. With you filling me up with your hot fat cock. Oh!” So, maybe he was laying it on a little thick. Maybe it wasn’t as genuine as he’d like but he wasn’t close enough yet—not yet, but neither was the man above him.

He had his hand clamped around the base of his cock and his dick purposely just teasing his prostate in fleetly brushes, there was only so much Wash could get off to. “Boo,” the man stilled his thrusts, loosening his hold around the man’s cock. “With _feeling_ , blond—”

Washington tangled a hand through Terrence’s inky black hair, “then call me Washington. Moan out my name and maybe I’ll get off. You’re doing a good job, really,” he pursed his lips and batted those baby blues again. _Shit_ those eyes made Terrence’s stomach flip. “But I know you can do better. C’mon Terrence, lets wake up the house with our fucking. Let’s break the bed and bruise our bodies—I can take it, _mmm_ yes I can take it.”

There was a moment there that the man _stared_. Just a full blown pause as he raked his brown eyes over his face, over each freckle and scar and mark. It was like he was taking him in for the first time— _really_ taking him in. It was endearing, _flattering_ —romantic even though the man was buried balls deep within Washington’s ass. There was a moment before he leaned over and broke rule number one.

Washington’s body crumbled in on itself, knees on either side of his head as his hands reached to find purchase. One, still buried in that ink black hair, remained firm in its hold while the other found the man’s arm. Their tongues slid together leisurely, a lovely shock between the once harsh pace of their fucking. The kiss was brief, over as quickly as it began. “You broke the first rule,” his hissed, muscles already cramping—he didn’t stretch enough for that position. Though as enjoyable as it was, it was still nice to be _prepared_ for that amount of contortion before just having it thrust upon him.

Terrence slid the man’s legs from his shoulders to his elbows, pressing a kiss to the corner of the man’s lips. “It’s the lingering alcohol in my system. Shut up.” He began his thrusts anew, rolling his hips until a rhythm returned. Their moans drawing out—longer and longer as the pace was set, as Terrence re-found the man’s prostate and this time went about pleasure him. Focusing on that spot that had the blond haired man clenching and moaning, cooing and digging his nails into Terrence’s flesh. “Let’s hear that begging _Washington_.”

“Please,” Washington’s moans, his whimpers ate the rest of his pleas. “Please— _please_ , ah,” his moans quieter before as he bit at his own lips as sucked on his tongue. His body shook, eyes snapping open before pulling Terrence’s face in close. “Please Terrence, please let me cum.”

Like an embrace, a moment shared only between them. “Then cum,” Terrence replied, watching as the man’s hand dropped from Terrence’s arm to wrap around his cock. Tugging at the prick until he spilled with a loud wordless cry, his anus clamping down around Terrence. Dipping him into his own body shuttering release.

The blond rolled them until they faced each other on their sides—he _cuddled_ him. He broke another rule that Terrence established and… well, Terrence wrapped an arm around Washington’s waist and tucked his nose into his hair.


	2. Fuck Me While They Watch.

There he was. There he was just standing there again, shoulder tilted down as his thumbs hooked into front pockets. He smiled, staring up at the man with the red solo cup in his hand. He could swear that Washington was batted those gray-blue eyes up at his companion, working him over without even touching him. It sent a flair of… of _what_ , Terrence had no clue, through him.

“I’ll be back,” he snapped to Manly, blindly patting his best friend’s arm as he pushed off to cut in on Washington’s flirting.

It’s been three days since that sorority mixer; three days of Terrence cursing at himself for every time he closed his eyes he’d see those gray-blue eyes staring at him. He’d see that smile, that dust of pink high on Washington’s cheek bones and over his ears as they cuddled for an hour before banging on the door made them separate. It’s been three days of Terrence checking his phone only to remember that they didn’t exchange numbers. Three days of Manly and Sniper laughing at him for sleeping with a Phi Theta Delta and _liking it_.

He slipped through the crowd; the mingling couples, the dancing pairs—shouldering through them all until he reached Washington and the unnamed man. “Hey,” he voiced laying a heavy hand against the small of the blond’s back. He didn’t wait until the man greeted him, putting himself between Washington and the man Terrence devoured Wash’s lips. Slipping a tongue past those pretty pink lips, those row of white teeth, Terrence began to march him back—back and back some more until Washington bumped against the wall. Moaning into the man’s mouth, Washington wrapped a leg around his waist and tangled his fingers through the man’s hair.

“I thought you didn’t like kissing,” the man snickered, tilting his head back as Terrence followed through by sucking marks down his neck. With both hands firmly cupping Washington’s ass Terrence heaved him up the rest of the way until both legs were firmly secured around the elder man’s waist. “Or are you _claiming me_ in front of everyone? ‘Cause I can get in front of some of that.”

With the blond’s fingers tangled through his hair, Terrence’s lips and tongue and teeth roamed further south. Down over the freckled expansion of his neck to the man’s Adam’s apple, humming around the ball before trailing further still. “I’ll fuck you right here,” he slammed him back against the wall, grinding their crotches together and grinning when the blond groaned in his ear. “I’ll show them just who owns that ass of yours,” he snarled.

Washington sighed, eyes falling shut as he gave the man more room to work—to mark his neck and claim him as his. “I have lube in my front pocket,” he explained, tugging at the man’s hair and hissing when he was rewarded with teeth.

He shouldn’t be promising him these things; he should leave the Phi Theta Delta alone, return to a simple rivalry between the two houses instead of this… _whatever_ this is. He shouldn’t be spreading his legs, grounding himself as he assisted the blond tug those torn blue jeans down enough to give Terrence room to work with. The man finally releasing his hold of his hair to slip the lube from the pocket he promised.

The music, the crowd of pulsing bodies in the too-small living room made it all hard to hear; he was straining for the earlier conversations, for the groans before. But the whisper of “are you really going to fuck me right here?” posed a different challenge all together.

Terrence pulled back from his worshipping, his claiming, of Washington’s neck to stare at the man. “That was the plan,” he replied before quickly back peddling. “We can move out of the living room if you’d like?” Give them a little more privacy. Wash nodded, throat bobbing as he swallowed. He was nervous?

It made no sense for the man to be nervous. Terrence knew of the man’s reputation, it was hard _not to_ become acquainted with it when people would gush about _David Washington_ and his freckled face and dimpled smile—yeah, Terrence dug into the blond’s reputation since that last party. Washington was the only pledge (that Terrence knew of) in the history of their University to get out of his initiation simply because he slept with his whole fraternity. Okay, maybe he missed a few because they weren’t into that but still; that was impressive.

“The hallway? I think I remember seeing a table there that you can put me down on.” Terrence shook his head; _ha_ , put him down. Fuck that Terrence was fucking him standing up! “Or, not?”

He nipped at the blond’s lips squeezing his bared ass with each hand, “none of that fuckery.” He pushed off, chuckling in the man’s neck when he scampered to cling to him. Short trimmed nails dug into Terrence’s clothed back as he led them from the crowded room, bumping against a wall and remaining there to press their lips together. “You promised me public sex and I’m going to show everyone just how fucking mad I can drive you.” The blond uncapped the lube in his hand, the sound popping right beside Terrence’s ear as he slipped back into a weird shuffle away from the main room. The hallway was littered with kissing couples—Terrence rolled his eyes before advancing towards the stairs and lowering them five steps up from bottom. “Change of plans,” he claims, pillowing the back of the blond’s head as he settles out by the railing.

Wash batted his eyes up at the man—all theatrical, like the Shakespearian plays that he’s forced to read in class—before waggling that opened container of lube at him. “Should I stretch myself open or would you?”

Terrence shook his head, “knock yourself out but make it quick. If I get this condom on before you’re done I’m fucking you anyway.” The world around them seemed to still as they grinned at the other, brows arching at the challenge. Like a black and white Polaroid photo, the room around them dimmed to monochrome—the blond of Washington’s hair, the blue of his eyes, the pink dusting his cheeks. Those were the only colours Terrence saw before they spurred into action.

Unbuckling his belt, his button and pulling down the zipper, Terrence grinned at his lover for the evening and was met with the man’s head tossed back and two fingers already working himself open. Washington laughed, “I tend to stretch myself out before coming to these parties. I have a habit of going home with people.” He reasoned, and Terrence could see the point of it all. It was better to insure that there was something to work with before some drunk idiot decides not to bother with the needed prep.

“Hot.” He wiggled the front of his pants and boxers low enough to free his flushed cock—red and leaking—fisting the shaft and fucking his hand, once, twice. Slipping his fingers into his back pocket, pushing aside his keys and grabbing that golden Trojan condom (haha, laugh it up) wrapper he waggled it in perfect view of the man thrusting two fingers easily in and out of his hole. “You good enough?”

Washington nodded, moaning when the man began to tear the packaging. “I wanna feel it in the morning,” he stated, removing his fingers and wiping them on his pants. The man above him grins, tearing open the packaging and promptly rolling it down his prick. Taking his cock in hand, widening his stance on the stair before cradling his hand under Washington’s head. “Just _fuck me_ ,” Washington whined, taking of the rungs in the banister just as the man began to push in.

The bunched up pants between them made the positioning awkward—already testing Terrence’s patience. He was tempted to just tear them and carry the blond Theta Delta back to the Trojan house to fuck him in his bed (then the wall, the shower, on his floor… the desk, the public kitchen, the living room). Just fuck him again and again until the blond couldn’t walk—maybe he was possessive, maybe he was curious, but Terrence didn’t _want_ that man to leave and the blond seemed to operate with sex. If the sex was good then he could keep him—that’s how that went, right?

It could be the alcohol though that was influencing his brain. Making him think stupid, _scary_ shit that involved the man never _wanting_ to leave Terrence’s bed.

He sunk in; centimeter by centimeter, inch by inch until he was snuggly within that warm moist heat—the clench and unclenching of muscles around his cock already had him panting. It had him pressing down on the crotch of the man’s pants until his hand pressed to Washington’s chest; it had him pressing kisses to the man’s freckled cheek and jaw, it have him catching the man’s bottom lip with his teeth.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he groaned, sliding his cock almost out of that heat before surging back into it. “I’m going to take you back home, fuck you proper. Tie you to my fucking bed and open you up until your cunt is quivering,” the blond only moans loudly at the vulgarity. Clutching at Terrence’s bicep as he started to roll his hips, upping the pace. It served to block out the noise around them, pull their attentions strictly to each other and ignoring the drunken strangers pausing— _stopping_ to watch the show unfolding on the stairs.

Washington hissed through his teeth, sucking in a breath before exhaling with another groan. “Are you planning to _keep me_?” Those gray-blue eyes of his gazing up at the dark haired man through a gaze half-mast.

Terrence bore his teeth, smiling predatorily. “Keep you. Breed you open,” he slammed back into him, chuckling at the loud cry—like music to his ears. “Cover you with my cum. Make you _mine_ —everyone’ll know just who you belong to now.” Washington’s nails dug into his arm, mouth falling open with a wordless plea. “How’s that sound, huh? _Property of Terrence Xiao-Li_.” He hissed in the blond’s ear, finding a new angle to thrust into his lover. His cries, his moans, rang out right beside his ear.

“Yes. Fuck yes. You call me _yours_ if I call you mine—” brown and gray-blue met, the situation _real_ in those eyes. They knew exactly what they were doing; this wasn’t a promise set out in a lustful or alcohol induced haze.

Terrence caught the man’s lips in a bruising kiss, forcing his tongue between them—between teeth and lips, pressing to the man’s tongue and roaming further. Plunging into the man’s mouth and charting out the territory. Mapping out the feel of his teeth, the metal bar cemented behind his bottom row of teeth.

He pulled away with a grin, “’sup boyfriend?”

Washington only grinned, his hold leaving the railing and clinging to the man’s shoulder. “Hey babe, you gonna keep fucking me on these stairs so we can go home for round two?” Terrence liked the sound of it already—how he said _home._ Shit.

He pounded into his _boyfriend_ with a renewed vigor. The faint sound of balls slapping against that plump freckled ass could be heard beneath the joint sounds of their groans, Washington’s cries when the man found and began to assault the man’s prostate with a practiced ease, the music and the party around them. “Right there, _ooooh fuck!_ Yes right there. Ughh, keep going—don’t stop, please don’t stop. So close. So fu-ucking close. Terrence.” As soon as the man’s name tumbled out of his mouth is seemed to be the _only_ word Washington could form. “Terrence— _urm—Terrence._ Oh, oh _sssss_ —uugh. Terrence.”

Nails digging, clinging to him as he arched up beneath him—body shuttering, shivering. Clenching down on his cock just as the blond pulled him down and bit at his bottom lip. He could _see_ the man’s cum, his cock jumping or twitching before spilling but he could feel every twitch, every clench that signalled the end. Terrence came with a shutter of his hips, pushing himself as far into the man as possible before resting on top of him to catch his breath.

They’d move shortly. Migrate back to the Trojan House and slip into his bedroom where they’d seldom venture out save for food or a bathroom break. They’d have a sex marathon that weekend.

Terrence was certain of that.


End file.
